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"Yes."

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"It's the one on the far right," A slightly amused voice called out to the redhead who had been staring at a set of cupboards looking slightly lost, "Sorry to have to bother you like this, Kirishima."

Akari was a tiny middle-aged woman with brown hair and the same kind of grey eyes as her father. Yohan and she had arrived the day before after an overnight journey (one she had slept through) and had been under Akari's care since.

"It's fine, really. I'm glad you're letting me help. Though it seems I have been slowing you down more than anything else, Kirishima winced slightly as she held up a clay jug, silently asking once again where to put it.

"That one just goes on the table," she softly directed the redhead over her shoulder. "If anything, it's nice to have some company. Those boys of mine are usually missing from dusk till dawn; goodness knows where they find the energy."

Kirishima grinned. The twins Hikaru and Shiki were Akari's two children, both rowdy and full of energy and barely up to her shoulder. They were, as children should be, full of life and mischief but understandably a handful.

"Well, that should do it. Let's head out." Akari reached for a neatly knitted coat and another noticeably larger one, handing the larger of the two to her. "I am afraid the only spare we have is my husband's."

"It's perfect; don't worry." Kirishima really did mean that, as loose clothing suited her better. It touched her less. As she ran her fingers over the sleeves, she met a roughness; there were small flowers stitched into the arms.

"I thought you said this was your husband's?" Kirishima tilted her head, and Akari just laughed.

"I thought it needed a little colour." The brunette smiled over her shoulder.

Kirishima pictured the large man she had met yesterday and snickered. That guy wearing something covered in bright pink flowers was a funny thought. Not manly at all.

Or was it more manly to wear something deemed feminine with confidence? Looking at the sweet woman he had for a wife, she was convinced there was probably very little he wouldn't do for her.

"Goodness, what happened?" Akari grasped Kirishima's hand, pulling it up to her face with a frown.

"Ah," she said, having forgotten about her knuckles. "I went for a walk this morning; I was clumsy." Kirishima scratched the back of her head sheepishly with her free hand.

"But this..." The older woman sighed, releasing her hand. "If you say so."

Kirishima felt a little guilty for lying, but she really had just been clumsy. She had gone out in the morning to the forest to train. It had become apparent to her after the last encounter with the guilds that her human form was a tad lacklustre in combat. Though there was no shame in being weaker than someone else, there was shame in choosing to remain that way. So every morning she took to training in her human form, often in the form of hardening her skin and striking things repeatedly.

It was simplistic, but she could feel it beginning to make a difference. In just a week, she could maintain her hardening for a whole five minutes longer than she had previously. Though she had overdone it and continued after her hardening had worn off, leading to the ugly brown and purple bruises.

In times like this, she missed Bakugou's instructions. He was loud and harsh, but he was undeniably a good teacher when he wanted to be. Even now she could hear him encouraging her (in his own way, that is) to keep going, and she still practised the stances he had taught her!

Having seemed to let it slide, Akari led her out of the house and on foot to town. It wasn't very far, and she could already hear the hustle and bustle. Or maybe that was just because of her excellent hearing.

"Wow!" Kirishima felt her eyes widen at the sight of the town in full swing of festivities. While the festival had been grand in the capital, this had a charm all its own. Hand-made decorations hung on every door and window, and children dressed in brightly coloured ribbons of red and green, while some adults wore funny hats.

What drew her gaze was the sight of the towering tree in the centre of town. It was dressed more brightly and magnificently than even the people, and it shined. She didn't quite understand why they had decorated a tree and, well, themselves, but the atmosphere was warming.

Kirishima's nose picked up a strange but sweet smell, though an odd spicy smell was mixed in there too. Just what was that smell? Akari led Kirishima to a stall in the centre, where they found her children manning an assortment of oddly shaped sweets and candies. So this was what the smell was. Akari was quick to hand Kirishima one of the sweets shaped like a little person and motioned for her to try it.

Kirishima was pleased to find that it tasted exactly like it smelled, maybe even sweeter. The spice that tingled was rather pleasant too; it was new but not unwelcome.

"What is this?"

"It's called 'Gingerbread'," Akari smiled proudly. "It's a new creation that has made its way from overseas. The boys and I experimented for a whole month to get even close to it. It's usually sold as a luxury item, so it was practical to make our own."

"It's tasty." Kirishima nibbled away on the sweet blissfully for a few moments before a tap on her shoulder drew her attention. "Yohan!" A light chuckle answered her as the man greeted her with a small lift of the hand before joining his grandchildren.

Kirishima smiled at the sight of the family exchanging their greetings, but at the same time, she felt a strange longing inside her heart. She didn't have a word for it, but she knew what it was. While this was a beautiful moment that would remain in her memory, at the same time, she wished that she could have spent it with Bakugou. How did he feel about this holiday? What was he doing right now? No matter how much she wondered, she would never know—not until she could be with him again.

Kirishima curled her bruised hands into fists and smiled, a new sense of determination filling her. She would take everything in, and then next year she would be sure to do it all again, this time with Bakugou and her friends. 1 year. She would be sure to make sure that was all she needed. She swore it

Putting it all aside, Kirishima found herself surrounded by wonderful people once more in her life, and she was grateful for their kindness. While her stay was short, she could tell that they were good people. The games they played and the things they celebrated may have seemed odd to her, but she enjoyed them nonetheless.

Akari and her boys led her around once their little stall had done its business for the day, and once again Kirishima was introduced to many strange and wonderful things. However, before long, the night grew colder still, and things began to calm as families huddled together around a bonfire that had been erected.

At that time, Yohan called out to her, "Kirishima, would you lend me a moment of your time?" He gestured for her to follow him as he turned to leave.

"What's up, Gramps?" She matched his casual pace as they began to walk away from the town centre. Once they were far enough away from the centre of town, Yohan reached into his coat and pulled out a piece of parchment, handing it to her.

Kirishima swallowed thickly when she saw what it was.

"Red Riot. It's got a nice ring to it," Yohan watched her carefully, opening his usually squinted eyes to really look at her face, "though it doesn't suit the description of the monster they claim it to be."

"How did you?"

"Little Miss, this old man has lived far too long and seen too many things to have the wool pulled over his eyes. Any normal person would have frozen to death or at least lost their toes in that snow for so long." He shook his head. "Besides, red-heads are not all that common around these parts outside of Lord Endeavour and his lot, and you are no heir of that brute."

Yohan took a deep breath, the air fogging around him. "Perhaps it's a longshot, but somehow this old man could feel it. "It seems I truly did meet someone special on that old road."

"But the poster says—" Kirishima stuttered. She knew very well what that poster said about her, not to mention the addition about what she had been up to recently. Yet why was he still looking at her with such kind eyes?

"Around these parts, it's wise not to believe everything the soldiers tell you. Even if there rings some truth, the most important parts are long forgotten." Yohan ran his fingers through this coat and pressed them against the top of a deep white scar at the top of his chest. "The people have long since lost love for their supposed protectors."

Kirishima had stopped trying to join in and simply listened to Yohan's story, and by the end, she felt her blood boil. She knew monsters existed in many different forms and in the most unexpected of places, but it still rocked her. Endeavour had far more to answer for than she had even begun to understand.

"Why hasn't anyone knocked him down a peg?" Kirishima could barely contain herself. From everything from kidnapping young boys to become soldiers against their wills to torching the houses of people who couldn't afford the yearly tax.

It was disgusting. Endeavour wasn't a leader; he was a dictator.

"Many have tried and even more have failed; it is not a battle just anyone can fight." Yohan looked down with mournful eyes. "You are not the first person I have heard those words from... This has been a rather unpleasant conversation; I apologise for that."

Yohan turned towards the path leading back into town. "I felt I must warn you; Endeavours men are to arrive within the week. It would be best if you rested and took your leave." The old man smiled at her sadly before leaving.

...

Despite his warning, what came to pass that night was perhaps unavoidable.

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